Little Louds of the Wild West
by Captain Dodge
Summary: Join "Johnson" and his trio of tykes on an amazing, alliterative adventure in the Wild West!


**Author's Note: Hey-ho! So, a while ago, a Loud House Discord server I was on hosted a writing contest, and this was my entry. And hey, guess what? I won! It doesn't look like the server owner is going to do anything with the story otherwise, so here it is, for your viewing pleasure!**

**Special thanks to Flagg1991, whose story I read for inspiration while writing this. Which story? Well, read on and find out…**

**I'm Captain Dodge - thank you, and have a nice day!**

(…)

The year was 1886. The quiet mining town of Flaggstaff stood baking in the unforgiving Nevada sun, still struggling to pull itself back together. Not one day ago, the honest, hard-working people of Flaggstaff received the dubious honor of being visited by the meanest, most monstrous gang of outlaws this side of the Rockies. The Broadside Barn Gang had terrorized the town, firing into the air and hooting and hollering, watching the townsfolk scurry to safety. Before the sloshed sloth of a sheriff could be shaken from his stupor, the bandits had robbed the bank, ransacked the saloon, and ridden off with Lorena, the finest sporting girl in Madam Rita's house of ill repute – perhaps, even, the finest sporting girl in the entire county. There was little the people of Flaggstaff could do except shake their heads, sigh, clean up the mess, and pray that they would not return…

…but Lorena's two greatest admirers were not so complacent.

Roberto Santiago, the versatile _vaquero,_ and Clyde McBride, the snake oil salesman from the East, stood in the sheriff's office, doing their damnedest to move their layabout sheriff to action, eager for the chance to rescue and romance their soiled dove.

Clyde McBride pounded the papers on the sheriff's desk with his fist. _"Damnation,_ Sheriff Dodge!" he shouted. "How can you sit swigging swill while those _monsters_ run loose?!"

"_Los bastardos _took Lori!" Roberto Santiago sobbed, sagging to the floor and burying his face in his hands. _"Lori…! Mi amor…!"_

"And God only knows what they'll do to her – what they've already _done!"_ Clyde pointed at Sheriff Dodge. "You've got to round up a posse – hunt down the hooligans, and hang 'em from the nearest tree!"

"And I _will._ Don't you worry." Sheriff Dodge brought the brim of his hat down over his brow, kicking his feet up on the desk. "Later…"

Clyde hurled his hands into the air. _"Hell and damnation!_ Have you no heart? You have to do something _now!"_

Sheriff Dodge pushed his hat back up, irritated. _"…Hrm._ I tell you what I _could_ do…" He reached into a drawer of the desk and pulled out a wanted poster for the Broadside Barn Gang. "I could raise the bounty on the gang and see if anyone collects…"

Clyde pored over the poster, studying the faces of the gang that took his beloved. "Silver Snake" Steak Stankco; "Bloody" Buddy Grouse; Ham-Fisted Hank; Red Hawk; and Chandler the Manhandler. Wanted dead or alive – $400 each, $2000 for the lot.

Determination kindled in Clyde's eyes. "…There won't be any need for that." He took the poster, folded it up, and put it in his vest pocket. "We're collecting on this bounty. You'll see – we'll slaughter those scoundrels, and bring Lori back."

Sheriff Dodge chuckled. "Great – save me the trouble…"

Clyde shook his head, disgusted. "Lily-livered layabout…"

Roberto spat on the floor as Clyde turned to leave. _"Puta pequeña…"_

Sheriff Dodge shrugged off their insults, waving them off. Clyde and Roberto stormed out of the sheriff's office, ready to find those fiends and give them what-for.

"…They called it 'Pickett's Charge', you know."

A low, gravelly voice stopped the two men dead in their tracks, and they turned to see a grizzled stranger sitting on the porch of the sheriff's office. He had a beaten Stetson covering his winter-white hair, scars crisscrossing his stubbled face, a well-worn duster, a bandolier loaded with bullets over his shoulder, a Colt hanging by his side, and snakeskin boots. This was an experienced man – a man who had been places, seen all sorts of things.

The man was so intimidating, it took Roberto a little while to find his voice. _"…¿P-Perdóname?"_

When he looked up at the duo, they were arrested by his icy blue gaze. "At Gettysburg. 'Pickett's Charge', they called it." He shook his head. "Weren't no _charge_ – it were a _massacre. _I know – I was there. Men marching forwards, straight into a hail of cannon and bullet fire…" He cast his gaze downwards, remembering companions long gone. "They might've been marching in formation, but I still ain't never seen men in such a hurry to die. Not before, nor since."

He stood up, spitting a wad of tobacco juice on the dusty ground. "'Till now. You fellers think you can up 'n turn bounty hunter, jus' like that?"

Clyde folded his arms defiantly. "What's it to _you?"_

The stranger strolled up to him with a commanding coolness that forced him to retreat a couple steps. "Lemme see yer hands."

That was definitely not a request. Clyde complied, holding out his hands for the stranger to inspect. The stranger trailed his thumbs over the fingers and palms, feeling their texture and laughing out loud.

"You got the softest damn hands of any nigger I ever done met! You go out huntin' fer them outlaws, only blood you gonna get on these purdy hands is gonna be _yers."_ He pointed at Roberto. "An' yer greaser friend ain't gonna do much better on his own, neither. You head out there by yerselves… an' you dead men walkin'."

Clyde shot the stink eye towards Roberto. "…He's _not_ my friend." He looked back at the stranger. "And _we don't care._ We're going to save Lori… or _die trying."_

And with that, he pulled his hands out of the stranger's grip and turned to leave. The stranger shook his head sadly. He wanted to tell them that a whore wasn't worth dying over, but hell, his wife had been little better than a whore, and he loved her more than anything in the world. When she died, he didn't think he could go on… until he met _them._

"…I know how you feel," the stranger said.

Clyde and Roberto turned around again. "Excuse me?" Clyde said.

"I know how it feels… to have loved and lost." The stranger shook his head again. "I can't stand by an' let it happen to someone else – not even a nigger or a bean-eater." He looked up at the two of them. "You wanna catch them criminals… then you gonna need some help."

Clyde's face lit up. "You'll help us round up a posse?"

The stranger laughed. "You already got one. Gather yer gear an' meet us outside the general store in an hour."

Roberto clasped his hands together. "Oh, _muchas gracias, _Señor… uh…"

The stranger smiled slyly. "Call me 'Johnson'."

"…Señor Johnson. _Eres muy amable –_ very kind."

"Ain't nothin' to it – jus' lendin' a helpin' hand."

And so, the three men dispersed to prepare for the perilous journey. Clyde went back to his wagon filled with elixirs, picked out his finest horse, and retrieved his 10 gauge shotgun, while Roberto saddled up his trusty mule, Lalo, and polished his precious _pistolas._ After an hour, the two of them met "Johnson" halfway to the general store.

"Mr. Johnson," Clyde said as they walked, "I can't lie – these rapscallions are going to take everything we've got. These companions of yours… are they as tough as you?"

"Johnson" grinned proudly. "Shore as shootin' – hell, maybe even _tougher."_

Roberto was relieved. _"Gracias a Dios._ I can't wait to meet them…"

The trio arrived at the general store, where three little girls were hanging out by the hitching post. Clyde and Roberto looked around, confused.

"Uh… where are your friends?" Clyde asked.

Chuckling, "Johnson" jabbed his thumb at the trio of tykes. "You lookin' at 'em. Fellers… meet my girls."

The African American and the Mexican stared dumbfounded at both "Johnson" and his alleged companions. There was a twelve-year-old dressed in boy's clothes, with a red hat, a green cotton shirt, denim overalls, and white boots; a seven-year-old in a pink gingham dress and bonnet; and a ten-year-old Indian girl in beads and skins, with a feather stuck in her headband.

Clyde chuckled nervously. "Ah… _good one,_ Mr. Johnson. Funny joke. _Ha, ha…"_

"'_Johnson'?"_ the girl in boy's clothes said with an amused familiarity that unnerved Clyde. "Johnson" merely laid a finger against his lips, signaling for silence. The girl nodded, chuckling to herself.

Roberto leaned in to whisper in his ear. "Uh… I don't think he's kidding, _hombre…"_

"No, I ain't," "Johnson" said. "These little'uns might not look like much, but they'll surprise you, ayup. I picked up these two in Wyoming – their family'd been killed by Injuns. Their mother was murdered, their father too, an' their sisters'd been stolen away. They survived by hidin' in a creek bed. They're wily ones, make no mistake. The big'un's Lana…"

The girl in boy's clothes tipped her hat to the men. "Howdy do?"

"…and the little'un's Lily."

The girl in the gingham dress curtsied. "A pleasure to meet you, gentlemen…"

"An' _this_ one I picked up offa the reservation. Her family'd been killed by smallpox – all 'cept'n fer _her._ She believed the 'Great Spirit' or some hokum'd chosen her fer a higher purpose – one I gave to her. Her name translates to _'Sleeps-Under-the-Stars-with-Giraffes',_ but I've taken to callin' her… Darcy."

Darcy raised her hand and greeted the gentlemen with a smile on her face. _"Háu!"_

"These three is gonna help us take down the Broadside Barn Gang, ayup," "Johnson" finished.

"I…" Clyde shook his head. "Y-You can't be serious…! You're not saying you're going to take these girls out to hunt _dangerous criminals,_ are you?!"

"Johnson" nodded. "Don't you worry – I taught 'em everything I know. We keep each other alive _– in more ways than one…"_ He looked askance as he added that last bit.

Clyde put his foot down. _"No! _Absolutely not! I will _not_ allow you to put these girls in harm's way!"

"Johnson" frowned and furled his brow. "…I ain't leavin' without 'em. An' you ain't comin' back alive without _us."_

His gaze nearly made Clyde fold right then and there, but he tried to hold firm. Roberto placed a hand on his shoulder. "Clyde…" he said, "…we need _toda la ayuda_ we can get."

Clyde was unable to restrain his shaking. As much as he despised Roberto, he knew he was right – they'd never be able to find, let alone stop, the Broadside Barn Gang on their own, no matter how determined they were. Despite his fear of "Johnson", he forced himself to walk up and look him dead in the eye.

"…You'd better _swear_ that you won't let anything happen to them," he tried to order.

"Johnson" flashed his yellowed teeth, and Clyde could smell the tobacco on his breath. "Don't need ta," he replied. "Ain't nothin' gonna."

His confidence shook Clyde to the core. He never knew a man could be so bold, so sure of himself. "…G-Good."

Chuckling once again, "Johnson" jumped up on his horse. "Right, girls, you know the drill. Lana, you pilot the pony with Lily. Darcy, you ride with me." He helped Darcy up into the saddle while Lana and Lily unhitched the animals and mounted up. "Now, where did these sumbitches get on off to?" he asked Clyde and Roberto.

"Last anyone saw, they were riding northwest," Clyde said.

"Then we got us our lead. Mount up, fellers."

(…)

The posse rode all day, eventually latching onto the outlaws' trail. Darcy had deceived the two other men – she had eyes like an eagle, and could track like a bloodhound. When they set up camp by a creek bed for the night, she and "Johnson" assured them that they were closing in fast.

Roberto built a campfire, and he sat carving a little woman out of a piece of wood as Clyde set up Lily's tent and "Johnson" told a tall tale to the trio of girls as they sat eating jerky and pemmican around the fire. This one revolved around Liver Eating Loud, and his famous hunt of notorious outlaw Billy the Kid.

"…An' then, right around midnight, as Liver Eatin' Loud sat in the dark room, outta the darkness came a figure creepin' quietly in. He couldn't see Liver Eatin' any better than Liver Eatin' could see him, an' he drew his gun, whispering, _'__¿Quién es? ¿Quién es?'_ Who is it? Who is it?" "Johnson" grinned. "Well, ol' Liver Eatin' recognized that voice. It were Billy the Kid's."

The girls gasped.

"An' he knew that the Kid were startin' to recognize him too, and it were only a matter 'a time 'fore he became another notch on ol' Billy's gun."

"So what did he do?" Lily asked eagerly.

"Well, what else? He cleared leather, an' in pitch black darkness, shot that bastard stone cold dead in one swift move."

The girls cheered, and Clyde smiled at their endearing enjoyment.

"So, there it were. Billy the Kid were dead. An' as Liver Eatin' Loud dragged his carcass out the door, he spotted his horse, a dappled gray. Well, he hadn't never seen such a strong, sleek horse ever in his entire life 'fore, nor anything that'd commanded his respect like that since his army days. He decided right there and then… that he would take that horse fer himself." "Johnson" leaned back. "An' that right there is how Liver Eatin' Loud met his steadfast steed, General Lee."

Lily and Darcy applauded, while Lana smirked. "Aw, _shucks,"_ she said, "that ain't nothing but a tall tale."

"Them stories come from _somewhere,_ little missy," "Johnson" reminded her. He stood up, stretching. "Now come on, now. It's getting' late, an' we gotta get movin' early in the mornin' if we wanna catch them sumbitches…"

The girls all yawned, ready to go to bed. As they gathered their bedrolls, Clyde came up to Lily. "All right, young lady," he said, "your tent's all set up!"

"Thank you kindly, sir!" Lily said sweetly.

"I don't understand why you can't just hunker down by the fire, where it's nice an' warm," Lana said.

Lily scoffed. "A _proper_ lady does not sleep on the filthy ground!"

"_Pshaw!"_ Lana jabbed her thumb at her younger sister. "She might put on airs and graces, but just you wait an' see – she's as wild as any of us!"

Lily didn't dignify her with a response as she retired to her tent.

As "Johnson" took off his boots, Clyde sat by the fire near him. "You know, that… that was quite the story you told, there…"

"Johnson" shrugged. "There's plenty more where that came from, ayup."

"I'll bet." Clyde looked up at the stars. "You know… I've heard lots of legends about Liver Eating Loud. And almost as many about his horse, General Lee. A magnificent dappled gray…" He gazed over at where the horses were hobbled. "…just like yours…"

"Johnson" looked over at the slippery little man, not saying a word. Then, he smiled, shaking his head.

"Get some rest, partner. We gettin' an early start tomorrow…"

(…)

Not five hours later, Clyde and Roberto were awoken by a splash of cold water in each of their faces. The two of them woke with a start, sputtering and swearing.

"Johnson" tossed the pot aside. "Rise 'n shine, boys. Saddle up – we headin' out."

"_Now?"_ Clyde looked up. The starry sky still shone above them. "It's not even _dawn!"_

"We wasted too much time as it is. C'mon."

Roberto sat up, groaning. "…What about _las chicas?_ Don't they need to sleep?"

"Johnson" stepped aside to show the girls behind him, all ready to go – even Lily. "Off to a late start today, aren't we, _'Johnson'?"_

"We'd be off already, if it weren't for these two ramblers." He gave Clyde, who was still lying down, an encouraging kick in the ribs.

Lana clapped her hands. "C'mon, slowpokes, up an' at 'em! You wanna catch these varmints, or not?"

Clyde sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. "But what about _breakfast…?"_ he whined.

"You can eat in the saddle!" "Johnson" said, exasperated. "Now _c'mon!"_

And so, Clyde and Roberto gathered up his gear, grumbling all the while. _"Pinche gringo…"_ Roberto muttered.

The posse mounted up and rode until the sun rose in the east, continuing on as dawn broke. Along the way, Roberto sang a love ballad centered around Lorena, raising Clyde's ire. He didn't know why, but Lorena never let him have a poke, even though she gave pokes to the greasy little Mexican. Mayhaps she simply didn't see him as a_ real_ man? If so, this attack could be his chance to prove himself to her – and perhaps get rid of the competition as well…

They followed "Johnson" and Darcy's lead, tracing a trail of tracks to just outside a rocky ridge. "Johnson" and Darcy dismounted, crouching down and inspecting the prints.

"What do you think, Darcy?" "Johnson" asked.

Darcy studied the prints carefully. "…Fresh. _Very_ fresh." She looked up, listening carefully, and pointed at the ridge. "They're over that ridge."

"Johnson" nodded, smiling. "Good girl." He stood up. "We found 'em. Leave the horses here. Stay low 'n slow – we don't wanna give ourselves away jus' yet."

Lana, Lily, Clyde, and Roberto all followed his lead, dismounting. Lana tucked a pistol into her pants behind her back, while "Johnson" pulled a Winchester out of the rifle sheath on his horse. Roberto pulled his _pistolas_ out from under his poncho, while Clyde inspected his shotgun. Together, the companions crawled up the ridge, looking down into the basin below.

The Broadside Barn Gang hadn't broken camp yet. The bandits were standing in a circle around Lorena, whose hands were held behind her back by Bloody Buddy Grouse, and laughing cruelly. Chandler the Manhandler approached her from the front.

"Come on, doll," he said, "give us all one more poke for the road!"

Lorena glared at him and spat in the sand at his feet. "You put your puny pecker in me one more time," she said, "and you ain't gonna live to see tomorrow."

The others laughed at this, including Chandler the Manhandler. "The _mouth_ on this woman!" He stepped up, a sneer on his face. "Sounds like someone oughta teach this whore some _manners…"_

And with that, he started beating her, landing blow after blow on her belly until she bled from the mouth. Roberto had had just about enough, and he was just about ready spring into action (unlike Clyde, who had gone weak at the knees, only stoking the fires of his jealousy), but before he could "Johnson" stopped him.

"Hold your horses, there," he said. "We can't go rushin' in without a plan."

"I tell you what," Lana said, "how's about the girls and I go down there an' draw their attention – y'know, jus' like in Arizona? 'Member?"

"Johnson" nodded, grinning. "Ayup, I 'member. Best hop to it, then."

"Whoa, whoa, _whoa!"_ Clyde said. "Girls, do you have any idea how _dangerous_ these men are? Why, not two days ago, they gutted –"

"Shut your mouth, nigger," Lana interrupted. "This ain't our first rodeo."

"Johnson" turned to Clyde and Roberto. "Listen – stay low, and stay quiet. Wait for my signal, then unleash the fury of God on the sumbitches."

Roberto nodded, grimly satisfied. _"Sí…"_

Darcy closed her eyes, clasped her hands together, and started praying. "Oh, Great Spirit, give us the strength we need to kill these evil men… and send them to Hell, where they belong."

"_Amen."_ Lily stood up. "Let's go get 'em, girls."

"Wait." "Johnson" snatched the shotgun out of Clyde's hands and handed it to Lily. "Use this."

"Why, thank you, kind sir!" Lily said, gratefully taking the shotgun and hiding it behind her back.

"_Hey!"_ Clyde complained. "What am _I _supposed to use?"

"Johnson" pulled out his Colt and handed it to him. "Take this." He nodded at the girls. "All right, girls – you know what to do."

The girls nodded back and all stood up, boldly striding down the hill towards the bandits. Clyde and Roberto watched the scene, wound up like clockwork.

"…I hope you know what you're doing, _amigo,"_ Roberto said.

"Johnson" laughed. "Just wait 'n see…"

At about this time, Chandler the Manhandler had ripped Lorena's blouse off and was firmly fondling her breasts. Lana brought her fingers to her lips and uttered a high whistle to get the Broadside Barn Gang's attention. The ruffians turned around, and couldn't believe their eyes:

There, before them, standing shoulder to shoulder, were three hard-eyed little girls.

At first, the outlaws simply didn't know what to make of this, staring at each other in confusion and murmuring amongst themselves. The three girls stayed where they stood and waited patiently – Lana with arms folded, Lily with her hands behind her back, and Darcy fingering the handle of her scalping knife.

Finally, Silver Snake Steak broke away from the group and walked up to the girls, smirking and sniggering. Bending down to their level, he asked loudly so that his compadres could hear, "…You lost, little girls? This here's dangerous country. What 'choo doing so far from your mommies an' daddies?"

Lana pulled out the wanted poster for the gang, which she had snagged from Clyde while he was sleeping. "We've come for _you,_ ya varmints," she said smugly. "Your time is up – we're _bringin' you in."_

Silver Snake Steak stared blankly, as did the rest of the Broadside Barn Gang, who had overheard. Then, the lot of them broke out into laughter. Guffawing with gusto, Silver Snake Steak turned to the others and said, "D-Did you hear that, fellers? Th-The-These little girls… are-are gonna _take us in!"_ He laughed louder than before.

Back on the ridge, "Johnson" watched the action through a spyglass while Clyde and Roberto itched impatiently. _"Wait…"_ he said, steadying them.

"H-Hey – Hey, fellers!" Silver Snake Steak continued. "Hey – any of you ever had a poke with a little girl before?"

Still laughing, he turned around to face the little girls who he presumed were harmless…

…and found himself face to face with the wrong end of a revolver barrel.

And then Lana pulled the trigger, blasting the bandit's brains straight out of his skull.

A stunned silence spread all over the camp. Then, before the others could come to their senses, "Johnson" sprang to his feet, wielding his Winchester.

"_Now!"_

The assault began. "Johnson" laid down suppressing fire from the ridge, while Roberto and Clyde charged in, Clyde lagging behind. The bandits' bewilderment turned to fury, and they drew their weapons and started shooting. The girls dodged this way and that, spry on their feet, and the outlaws' shots went wide.

"_Don't stop shootin'!"_ "Johnson" ordered. _"Keep 'em on their toes!"_

His _pistolas_ in each hand, Roberto fired one, then the other, screaming at the top of his lungs. _"Baila, pendejos!"_ he shouted._ "BAILA!"_

Clyde stopped dead in his tracks, frowning. Roberto was putting on an impressive show, demonstrating his _machismo._ If they brought Lorena back to Flaggstaff, she'd hail him as her hero…

…_if_ he came back with them.

His back was turned. In the heat of battle, who would notice? Cold as ice, Clyde raised the Colt, cocked it, pointed it at Roberto's back…

…and pulled the trigger.

_Click._

Confused, Clyde cocked the Colt again, and fired. Nothing. Inspecting the cylinder, he found every chamber to be empty. His head shot back to look at "Johnson", who had seen the whole thing… and he was grinning. He _knew_ Clyde would try that.

Shaking with fury, Clyde threw the Colt to the ground. "You… You no-good, sneaky _scoundrel!"_ he shouted.

"You're one to talk, Mr. Snake Oil Salesman!" "Johnson" shouted back.

Sputtering a stream of expletives, Clyde ran for cover while "Johnson", Roberto, and the girls returned fire. One of Roberto's bullets struck Ham-Fisted Hank in the stomach, and "Johnson" shot him in the shoulder, and he fell to his knees. Lily ran up to him, holding the shotgun.

"I want a horsey ride!" she declared.

She then used the shotgun to blast out Ham-Fisted Hank's kneecaps, and he toppled over onto his stomach. Lily climbed up on his back as he tried to crawl away, screaming in agony, and grabbed him by the collar. _"Giddyup, bitch!"_

Meanwhile, Red Hawk, the cruelest Kiowa this side of the Rockies, tossed a tomahawk at Darcy – but Darcy caught it in mid-air and, uttering a whooping Indian war cry, hurled it back at him. It found its mark, striking him square between the eyes, which rolled back into his head as he keeled over.

Bloody Buddy Grouse started aiming at the girls specifically, shouting _"You damn kids!"_ over and over, along with some choice words describing women. Incensed by this, Lana took careful aim with her revolver and fired, blowing out Bloody Buddy's balls.

Bloody Buddy Grouse's knees gave out from under him as he saw (and felt) the damage. "Sweet Jesus… Mother of Mary…"

Lana walked up to him and drew her knife, waving it in his face. Ignoring his pleas for mercy, she sliced his stomach open from side to side, then reached in and grabbed a hold of his small intestine. She pulled the organ out by its end several feet, then used it to play jump rope with Darcy.

By now, Chandler the Manhandler was the last bandit standing. Unnerved by the girls' flawless extermination of his gang, he decided to beat a hasty retreat with a _"Fuck…! To hell with this!"_ As he passed by Lorena, curled up on the ground, trying to avoid the fighting, he grabbed her by the hair. "You're coming with me, you trollop!"

Chandler the Manhandler dragged a screaming Lorena to his horse as the girls and their posse regrouped. Roberto pointed a _pistola_ at the escaping bandit, but "Johnson" pushed it down. _"No!"_ he said. "You could hit the girl!"

"But he has Lori!" Roberto roared.

"He's going to get away!" Clyde cried.

"_No, he ain't!"_

Lana whistled, and the pony came running. Neither Clyde nor Roberto had ever seen a pony run that fast before. As it slowed to a canter as it came near, "Johnson" handed his Winchester to Lana. "Here, take this!"

Lana accepted the rifle. "Thanks, Linc!" she said – something that Clyde did not fail to notice.

As Chandler the Manhandler forced the sporting girl over his horse, Lana, Lily, and Darcy all mounted the pony, with Lana holding the reins, Lily behind her, and Darcy in the back. Chandler the Manhandler swung into the saddle and spurred the horse as hard as he could, trying to get away as fast as possible.

Lana took off her hat and waved it in the air. "Hi-ho, Hopps! _Away!"_

She then spurred Hopps the pony onwards, giving chase to the last remaining member of the Broadside Barn Gang. Clyde and Roberto watched them go anxiously.

"That pony will never be able to catch up with a horse!" Clyde said.

"Johnson" grinned confidently. "It ain't gonna have ta."

Together, the three girls held the Winchester under their arms, with Lana aiming, Lily looking down the sights, and Darcy's finger on the trigger. Darcy cocked the gun and waited for Lily's signal.

"Steady…" Lily said, "hold her steady… and…_ FIRE!"_

Darcy pulled the trigger. The bullet ripped through Chandler the Manhandler's shoulder, knocking him off his horse. As he pushed himself out of the dirt and struggled to his feet, the girls rode up to him on Hopps. Swinging a lasso, Lana caught the bandit by the neck and yanked him back down to the ground, with the help of the two behind her. She rode up to Chandler the Manhandler's horse, cut Lorena's bonds, and then she, Lily, and Darcy rode back to the others, enjoying the pony ride while dragging the bandit through the brush behind them.

"Johnson", Clyde, and Roberto, meanwhile, had surveyed the damage. As the memories of the heated gunfight returned to them, Clyde and Roberto stared at the returning girls, awestruck.

"I… don't… believe it…" Clyde said.

"Johnson" chuckled. "What'd I tell you, boys?" He looked on at the girls with pride. "They might not look like much… but they'll surprise you."

Lana, Lily, and Darcy rode up to the men with Chandler the Manhandler in tow. "We did it, y'all!" Lana cheered. "We _did it!"_

"Ayup! Shore as shootin'!" "Johnson" folded his arms and nodded with satisfaction. "Looks like you girls just earned yerselves some rock candy when we get back to town!"

"_Yay!"_

The girls all hopped off the pony, walking over to Chandler the Manhandler. The ride over had not been a pleasant one for him – the rocks and shrubs had torn his skin and clothes all over, and one eyeball hung from its socket.

"P… Please… _kill me…"_ he begged.

"I don't think so," Lily said coldly. "You're going to suffer all the way back to town, like your kind deserves."

Lana pulled out her knife, grabbed the outlaw's eyeball with her grubby fingers, and cut it loose, popping it into her mouth. "'Sides," she said as she chewed, "gotta keep the hangman in business!"

Roberto blanched. _"Ay, Dios mío…"_ He made the Sign of the Cross. _"__¡Esas chicas son demonios!"_

"You said it, _amigo,"_ "Johnson" said with a smile.

Lorena then rode up on Chandler the Manhandler's horse. "Oh, Roberto!" she cried as she dismounted. _"My hero!"_

"_Lori, mi vida!"_

Roberto and Lorena ran up to each other and embraced, kissing passionately. Clyde was not at all pleased. _"Hey!_ What about me?!"

Lorena broke the kiss. "Oh, and, uh, thank you too, Clyde." She and Roberto then resumed kissing. Clyde threw his hands in the air and cried out in disgust.

"Johnson" walked up to Clyde, chuckling. "Sorry, friend, but that's love for you – a fickle bitch." He patted Clyde on the shoulder. "Don't forget – real men roll with the punches."

"_Whatever."_ Clyde sighed. "Well… at least she's all right, now. Thank you kindly, stranger." He looked over at the girls, who were busying themselves with the bandits and their goods. Lana was looting the corpses, Lily was drinking the leftover liquor, and Darcy had started scalping the slain. "How did you know… I mean… how could those little girls _do_ all that?"

"Don't you know, city boy?" "Johnson" stared off into the horizon.

"_You've gotta be tough as nails… to live on the frontier."_

(…)

The next day, back in Flaggstaff, Chandler the Manhandler was strung up by the neck for his crimes, and the ones who brought him and his gang down were celebrating their hard-won bounty. Roberto balanced a laughing Lorena on his lap.

"So," he said, "does _el campeón victorioso_ get any… _special reward_ from his lady?" he asked.

Lorena tweaked his nose. "That depends. Your pecker half as big as your mustache?"

Roberto grinned. "Why don't I show you?"

Lorena stood up. "Well, all right, hero. And sugar – this one's on me."

She took him by the hand and led him upstairs, while Clyde could do nothing but watch. Grimacing, he slapped some money on the bar. "Gimme a shot of whiskey, straight up," he said to the bartender.

"Make that _two_ shots," "Johnson" said, sitting next to Clyde. "And a bottle of sarsaparilla for my girls."

"Johnson" and Clyde looked over their shoulders at the trio of girls, playing poker with several grown men in another corner of the room. Lily laid out a full house on the table. "Read 'em and weep, boys…"

The men cried out in dismay. One of them hogged the pot. "'Taint right!" one of them said. "That there girl has _gotta _be cheatin'!"

Lily gasped. "'Cheating'? _Me?_ Why, sir! I am _far _too civilized to resort to such a thing!" She laughed, then drew her sidearm, along with the other two. "Now _pay up_ – taxman's here!"

As the men reluctantly relinquished their winnings, Clyde chuckled. "Those girls are one of a kind, aren't they?"

"You tellin' me," "Johnson" said, swallowing his shot.

"Say… back when we first met… you said they kept you alive in more ways than one, didn't you?"

"Johnson" closed his eyes. _"…Ayup."_

"Well, what _kind_ of other ways?"

"Johnson" sighed. "…When I found 'em, I was in a dark place. I'd done what I'd set out to do, I thought, and I didn't think there were anything else for me to do… 'cept die." He looked back at them, smiling. "…They showed me how wrong I was. They showed me how much work there's left to be done… and how much there's still worth livin' for."

Clyde nodded solemnly. _"Hmm…"_

As Clyde downed his drink, a young Mexican woman, Ronalda Anna Santiago, sauntered up to "Johnson". _"Hola, señor…"_ she said, tracing a finger down her back.

"Johnson" was somewhat surprised, but nodded at her politely. "…Good day, miss."

"Are you the man who killed those bandits with my brother, Roberto?"

"One of 'em, ayup."

Ronalda Anna chuckled. "I just wanted to say… _gracias_ for killing those _hombres malvados…_ and for keeping _mi hermano estupido_ alive."

"Johnson" chuckled. "'Tweren't nothin'."

Ronalda Anna smiled at the _gringo_ warmly. "If you need a place to stay in town tonight… we could set up in our guest room." She started stroking his thigh. "We could make you _muy… muy cómodo…"_

"Johnson" smiled, then stood up. "Mighty decent of you t'offer, _señorita,_ but my girls an' I is just 'boutta be movin' on, now. We won't be stayin' overnight." He grabbed the bottle of sarsaparilla off the bar for the road. _"Adios."_

Ronalda Anna folded her arms and huffed as "Johnson" walked away. "A cowpoke who prefers cows to women? And here I thought I'd seen everything…"

"Johnson" started laughing. This woman had fire in her – he liked that. It's what drew him to his wife, after all. Turning around, he said, "No, ma'am, it's just that my heart ain't mine to give no more. It's been branded… with the letters L-O-L-A."

As Clyde heard those letters, the final vestiges of doubt were banished. _Lola… Lola…!_

He walked back to the double doors. "C'mon, now, girls!" he called out. "It's just 'bout time to be hittin' the trail again!"

Lana, Lily, and Darcy collected their winnings. "Well, gentlemen," Lily said, "it's been a pleasure, but I'm afraid we must be going now…"

"Johnson" and his girls exited the saloon and started packing up, getting ready to go. Before they could, Clyde burst through the batwing doors. "It's you, isn't it?!" he shouted.

"Johnson" and the girls stopped. "…Beg yer pardon?" "Johnson" asked.

"I couldn't believe it at first, but now I can't ignore it! Lola, the horse – and that one there called you _'Linc'_ back at the bandits' camp!" He raised a trembling finger. "It's… It's _you…!_ You're the legend himself, Liver Eating Loud!"

Lana laughed out loud, only to bite her tongue when Lincoln shot her a disapproving look. It was _her_ who helped give away the charade, after all…

That little interaction informed Clyde of everything he needed to know. As Ronalda Anna exited the saloon along with him, he started sputtering, "T-Tell me, is it really true that you scalped and ate the livers of 300 Crows for killing your wife and daughter? O-Or that you killed a grizzly bear with nothing but a knife and your bare hands?"

Lincoln smirked. "…Don't believe every tall tale you hear around the campfire, friend. Legends is just that – _legends."_ As he turned to mount General Lee, he quietly added, _"Only got a nugget of truth to 'em…"_

Lincoln and his girls brought their rides into the center of the street. "Where will you go now?" Clyde asked.

"Wherever the winds take us," Darcy replied.

"There's lots more work to be done," Lana said.

"Plenty more scum to be slaughtered," Lily added.

"Ain't no time to put up our feet an' rest." Lincoln tipped his hat to Clyde and Ronalda Anna. "Y'all take care now, hear?"

Smiling warmly, Clyde waved goodbye. "So long… friend."

"See you, cowboy," Ronalda Anna said with a wink.

Nodding at the both of them, Lincoln dug his spurs into General Lee and rode off into the sunset, the girls not far behind on Hopps. Clyde and Ronalda Anna walked into the street, watching them go.

"There goes a _real_ man…" Ronalda Anna said.

A solitary tear crept down Clyde's cheek. "A man… a myth… a _legend."_


End file.
